


Numinous

by kbaycolt



Series: Selcouth [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Klaus Hargreeves, Betrayal, F/F, Five being his assholeish self, Good Brother Diego Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus is smarter than he looks, Luther being a slightly less asshole, M/M, also im desperate pls comment, brutal deaths all around, is this x-men? I think it's x-men, kinda slow at the beginning but it gets better please stick around, major trigger warnings, the fam making friends like functional human beings, very very slight slash and it's only semi-important to the plot, y'all this is heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-03-20 07:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18988240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbaycolt/pseuds/kbaycolt
Summary: Sequel to 'Strikhedonia'.After the Umbrella Academy officially opens its doors to metahumans, the Hargreeves siblings seek out new recruits, in addition to the struggling family dynamic they're working through.To make matters worse, a new force is rising in opposition, dedicated to giving metahumans godlike status in order to fully protect their race. Led by a powerful figurehead, this may be the most challenging opponent the Umbrella Academy has ever faced.Here comes the storm.(Numinous: Something that makes you fearful yet fascinated, awed yet attracted; the personal, powerful experience of being overwhelmed and inspired.)





	1. Recruitment Pitches and Ominous Warnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five and Vanya pitch their deal to Number Thirteen. Luther does some redecorating, and Diego arrives with news.

_Five draws himself up with pride._

_"We're with the Umbrella Academy," he says. "Can we come in?"_

Number Thirteen blinks in surprise, but she steps back to allow them inside. Vanya follows Five into the house.

The interior is more spacious than the exterior suggests, with a large window spanning one wall and dozens of photographs hung up in various places. A couple sleek black couches are arranged in an 'L' shape. The walls are painted pastel yellow, making the living room seem brighter.

 _Click_. Thirteen closes the door behind them. Looking a bit awkward, she flicks on a few lights and says, "you can take a seat. Want any tea? My girlfriend loves chamomile."

"Thank you," Vanya says, at the same time Five says, "no thanks."

"... I'll get one cup."

When Thirteen is in the kitchen, pouring the tea for Vanya, Five scans the place, trying to identify any threat. Thirteen doesn't seem too dangerous, so he relaxes a bit into the chair.

"Sorry it's messy," Thirteen apologizes, slipping a mug into Vanya's hands. She brushes off the pillows, adjusting them slightly, then takes a seat across from the pair. "So, you have some intriguing things to say, I'm sure."

"Yes," Five says. He laces his fingers together and straightens. He meets Thirteen's eyes. "My sister and I grew up in a harsh training environment, which arguably made us worse. We're seeking to offer other metahumans a chance we weren't given. You lived closest, so we figured we'd begin with you. Would you like to join the Umbrella Academy?"

Thirteen laughs a bit, wringing her hands nervously. Five watches her fingers tap against the wood in a pattern he can't identify. Something about her is off, something that puts Five on edge.

"I don't know what I can offer you," Thirteen tells them. "I'm pretty useless, actually. I'm mostly a clumsy fool, so I really don't think you'll get much from me."

For a moment, Five genuinely believes her. Then his logic kicks back in and he shakes off the thought. Vanya, on the other hand, nods slowly, smiling in that sympathetic way of hers.

"We understand," Vanya says. "We won't bother you anymore."

She starts to stand up, but Five grabs her sleeve and drags her back down. Narrowing his eyes, he leans forward, frowning at Thirteen.

"What is this?" he asks, shaking his head. "What are you doing?"

Thirteen's innocently nervous demeanor wavers. The corners of her lips dip into the tiniest scowl, but it vanishes before Five can fully process it. "I don't know what you mean. Now, I'm seriously not anything special, guys, so you won't find anything worthwhile here."

"You're lying."

"Excuse me?"

"Five," Vanya says, looking affronted. "Don't be rude."

Ignoring her, Five rises to his feet and says firmly, "you're lying, and you're doing something to us. It's subtle, I almost fell for it, but you tried to mess with the wrong person. Now, drop the act or I'll make you."

"Five, we want them to join us willingly!" Vanya cries. "We're not here to threaten them."

"Sure I am."

Thirteen also gets to her feet. She's openly scowling now, glaring down at Five. "Dammit, I thought I had you. I've been practicing. How good was I?"

"Tell me what your power is first and then we'll talk."

"Right." Thirteen lifts her hand and drags it through the air like yanking down a curtain. Instantly, the entire room shifts.

The yellow wallpaper flickers and turns blue. The black couches become faint grey. Portraits switch positions on the walls, the kitchen lights dim while others brighten, a string of polaroid photos relocates to the hallway. The warm, welcoming feeling all around them fades away, leaving Five alert and tense again.

Thirteen's own appearance changes too. Her eyes are a little bit darker, her frown a little bit sharper, her stance straightening, making her seem on-guard and intimidating rather than casually awkward.

Five gives her an expectant look.

"Illusionist," she informs him. Her voice is slightly irritated, more hostile. "I can weave illusions, turn one thing into another. I tend to make myself more friendly for strangers, it's easier to talk to people when they think you're the perfect hostess."

"You talk yourself down for others," Five realizes. "You make other people underestimate you. You seem innocent and naive, but you're actually manipulating everyone."

"Yeah, exactly. For everyone except for family and close friends, and of course my girlfriend."

"Woah," Vanya whispers. She blinks a bit, as if fully coming out of Thirteen's illusion. "That's incredible."

"I know," Thirteen says smugly. A clap of her hands, and the couches once again turn jet black. "I like the color more. Now, I don't know if you couldn't tell by the illusions, but I'm really not super interested in your deal. I'm fine living the way I'm living. You could ask my girlfriend, though."

"Why?" Vanya asks.

"Well, she's not exactly normal either. She can feel and manipulate other people's emotions, which is handy coupled with my illusions. Makes family dinners much easier to handle."

"Where is she?" Five presses.

"Work. Or at that coffee shop on the corner. Either way, not here." Thirteen picks up Vanya's now-empty mug and rinses it out in the sink. "Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Kala, and my girlfriend's name is Macy. If she takes your deal, I'll go too, but if she turns you down, we're both out, got it?"

"Got it. It was good to meet you, Kala."

"I wish I could say the same." Kala winks at them. "By the way, I knew who you were before you told me. Everyone knows about the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy. Try to tone down on the dramatics."

"Right."

Vanya laughs softly, shakes Kala's hand, and then they head out.

* * *

A week later, Luther stands in the entryway of the old Hargreeves house and thinks about tearing it down.

Not tearing it down completely, but tearing apart the inside, remodeling, removing every bad memory nesting inside the creaky walls. The aging wallpaper reeks of grief and the very floorboards beneath his feet buckle under the weight of the legacy resting within the house. The whole place seems to groan with exhaustion.

"Luther, dear?" Mom says inside the parlor. "Come help me with this, would you?"

He forces himself to stop staring at a family portrait that is noticeably missing Vanya and Ben. Heaving a sigh, he steps into the parlor. Mom is standing near the fireplace, looking up at that old painting of Number Five.

"Five wants to take this down," Mom tells him. "Unfortunately, I can't reach. Can you?"

"Sure, Mom." Luther unhooks the painting from the wall and settles it into Mom's hands. She carries it easily out of the parlor.

One rotten thing taken out. Five might thank him later.

Actually, he won't.

Something everyone can rely on is Five's capability to never surprise anyone with his assholeishness.

Now knowing that Mom is working on fixing up the house, Luther feels the startling desire to be rid of it. The house certainly has a good deal of historical and personal significance, and while it would pain him to wash it all away, he also feels like everyone needs a fresh start. Switching up the house might be the first step.

Besides, with the new additions moving in, the place needs to be structurally sound.

Luther starts by removing all of the old portraits and frames from the walls. Family portraits, cold depictions of Reginald Hargreeves, and even some of their childish drawings. He rips down the training instructions plastered to the walls, scrapes away the childhood reminders, the echoes of punishments that show by the knife marks in the paint, a dent from a fist, the smudges of blood on the floorboards that never quite washed away.

Everything is a bit better when he's done, but it's still disturbingly the same.

"We need to paint this place," he muses quietly to himself. The ancient wallpaper is dry to the touch, crumbling with age. Maybe a bright color, like blue or white. Both?

"I like what you've done with the place."

Luther whirls around, a gasp of surprise escaping him. In the parlor doorway, Diego leans leisurely, one eyebrow raised and an infuriating smirk on his face.

"Diego," Luther says. "You startled me."

"I still got it, huh?" Diego pushes himself off the wall and steps inside. He casts his gaze around, whistling appreciatively at the lack of creepy, stern faces leering at them from within the frames. "Doing some redecorating?"

"Care to help?"

"Another time."

A pause. "Why are you here, Diego?" Luther asks.

"Didn't you go to L.A. with Allison? Why are you back so soon? Missed me?"

"You wish." Luther watches as Diego maneuvers his way around the couches, running a knife along the top of the desk. "Allison needed time to get back to her life, and I feel like I belong here. Might as well touch it up while I'm staying."

"The old man's not here to police us anymore," Diego murmurs in agreement. Then he seems to remember what he came for, as his expression shifts into something more serious. "So, you'll never guess who I ran into."

"You're right, I won't."

"One very annoying, very murderous assassin, minus a partner."

Luther's eyes widen. "Hazel and Cha-Cha?"

"Minus a partner," Diego repeats. "Just Cha-Cha alone."

"Wait, I thought Five scared her out of town. Why is she here? What happened?"

Diego holds up a hand. "Relax. She isn't coming after us. She actually wanted our help." He tucks his knife away. "She told me about someone with a grudge against us, which I normally wouldn't question, but she seemed concerned. Luther, I think she was scared."

"A temporal assassin, scared?" Luther scoffs. "Really?"

"I mean it. She seemed all-too eager to skip town and get as far away from us as possible."

"Well, who was she scared of?"

"Goes by the name Ayaba. I'm pretty sure it's in an African language, but I'm not going to assume. Did Allison buy us all phones yet?"

Luther rolls his eyes. "They're in the other room."

"I bet we could find a translation app on there."

Sighing, Luther reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone. It's identical to all the others, just so the family could keep in touch. He fumbles around with the buttons for a while, until he manages to find Google Translate. Diego spells it for him, and Luther types it in.

"'Yoruba'?" Diego reads aloud, tilting his head. "What's that?"

"Apparently, it's a language in west Africa. Maybe whoever this is, is from there."

"And what does Ayaba mean?"

Luther peers down at the screen. "Either 'the queen' or just 'queen'. Interesting name choice. Did Cha-Cha say anything else helpful?"

"Not much. Then again, this was nearly a week ago, so I might have forgotten."

The phone slams down against the desk, rattling the lamp. Luther glares at Diego. "A _week?_ Diego, you can't keep information like this from us. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because I thought you and Allison needed time off," Diego shoots back. "I wanted to get back to normal, and I know you did too."

"By normal, you mean vigilantism, which is illegal."

"And what have you been doing? Interior decorating? Reading bedtime stories to little kids? _Anything_ helpful at all?"

"Boys," Mom says firmly. She stands on the balcony above them, a frown creasing her normally-gentle face. Both Luther and Diego fall silent. "We don't need to fight. Please keep it down; the house has ears."

"Looks like Mom's wires are still crossed," Luther mutters under his breath.

Diego sends him a dirty look before heading up to join their mother. From the balcony, he calls down, "maybe give Allison a call, I'll get in contact with Klaus. Where are Five and Vanya?"

"Five and Klaus have been recruiting for the past week," Luther replies. "All over the country. Vanya is back at her apartment."

"Got it."

"Don't surprise her!" Luther adds loudly, as Diego starts to walk away. "Klaus said she nearly nailed him with her powers when he showed up unprompted."

Diego laughs shortly. "Good to know."


	2. Cue the Travel Montage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five and Klaus search for the other twenty-six metahumans. Klaus and Ben have a chat. Vanya makes a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From what I can tell in canon, Klaus puts up a front of forgiveness and an easygoing nature, but in reality, he seems to hold grudges, but in a more subtle way than Diego's "Vanya betrayed us" thing. He clings to the past and uses it as both a defense mechanism and a way to defend his actions in the present, and when Dave died, he used it as a reason to slip right back into old habits. Ben is the only one who sees that and snaps him out of it, forcing Klaus to move on in order to save the world, but now that the stakes are less high, Klaus tends to hang onto the little things and use them to deflect his opinions.
> 
> ^ just insight for when we get deeper into this fic

Number Sixteen lives in Honolulu, Hawaii.

Klaus hangs on for dear life as Five yanks them through space, depositing Klaus rather rudely on the beach. Coughing and spluttering, Klaus spits out sand and flings up his middle finger.

"Don't be a baby," Five says.

"I'm gonna have sand in my shoes for weeks."

"You don't even wear shoes most of the time."

Turns out, Sixteen, who goes by Jeremy, lives in an elegant beach house perched on the coast, windows glowing orange and a wraparound porch painted white. Wind chimes dangle from the railing. Jeremy sits on the steps, a surf board propped up beside him and his hair plastered to his forehead from the water. He stands up when he sees them. He has a deep tan with smile lines around his mouth, a billowing teal shirt covered in pineapples, and a necklace of palm leaves is strung around his neck.

"Aloha!" he calls out cheerfully. "Tourists? The beach is open, but I recommend waiting for tomorrow. The waves are angry today."

"Not tourists, but I'd like a coconut anyway," Klaus replies.

Five proceeds to launch into his whole Umbrella Academy spiel. Jeremy's expression changes from welcoming, surprised, guarded, hesitant, and finally friendliness again. He bids them a hurried goodbye and goes to gather his things.

"What can he do?" Klaus asks Five.

"Shapeshift."

* * *

They find Number Seventeen in Seattle, Washington. Number Nineteen is in southern Thailand. Number Twenty's location makes Five pause for a long moment, and then they're off to Pripyat, Ukraine, at the Chernobyl nuclear plant.

Despite it being a good thirty years since the disaster, Klaus expects to keel over upon inhaling the contaminated air, but it seems relatively okay. Five touches the ground, frowning a bit.

"Some places are more dangerous than others," he comments. "Best to steer clear of Chernobyl itself."

"Comforting," Klaus mutters.

Number Twenty apparently lives dangerously close to the abandoned nuclear plant, which makes Five hesitate and Klaus feel slightly sick.

"Does it really have to be here, of all places?" Klaus complains. "It couldn't've been a nice beach, like Sixteen? Or some forests like Nineteen? It's gotta be an irradiated wasteland full of ghosts."

"I think it's kinda peaceful," Ben says thoughtfully. Klaus glares at him, prompting a look of surrender.

Twenty, who is named Vira, greets them with a smile and a hurried escort away from the nuclear plant. She has a clearly Russian or Ukrainian complexion, with a thick accent that's sort of difficult to understand.

"I can convert one type of energy to another," she explains, leaning against an empty husk of a car. "Solar to chemical, nuclear to kinetic, so on and so forth. Being so close to Chernobyl makes me stronger. The Elephant's Foot is very interesting to few up close, which only I am capable of."

"Can't say I'm jealous," Klaus says. Ben tries to elbow him and fails.

Vira chuckles softly. "It's nice to be alone sometimes, but I do also desire company on occasion. You say you are gathering a team?"

"Yes," Five says.

"Hm. Count me in, though it may take me awhile to book a plane. No one travels to Pripyat by air."

* * *

They find Number Ten floating upside down, legs crossed and eyes closed, humming softly. He reveals that he can manipulate gravity, and shows them by sending Klaus spiraling upwards into a free fall, stopping his descent right before he hits the ground.

"I don't like him," Klaus grumbles, sprawled out on the floor, at the same time Five says appreciatively, "I like him."

* * *

Number Thirty-One immediately strikes Klaus as non-threatening. He's someone of relatively confident stature, but his eyes dart nervously from side to side, hands twitching at his sides. He runs a hand through his fluffy mop of red hair several times before inviting them inside.

"Look, I'm not extraordinary or whatever," Thirty-One, or Avery, says. He pours himself a cup of coffee, fingers trembling around the mug the whole time. "In fact, I'm the farthest thing from it."

"This says otherwise," Five replies, tapping Dad's journal.

Avery eyes it suspiciously. "A book?"

"A record of the other thirty-six children born on the twelfth hour of the first day of October, 1989. You don't have to hide it. We're like you."

Avery lets out a short, derisive laugh. "You're not like me, and you're better off for it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you'd have gone insane a long time ago if you were like me. If this is extraordinary, I'd like to be ordinary." Avery takes a long sip from his coffee, his index finger tapping a random pattern on the ceramic. "This... _whatever_  this is, it sucks."

"I know what that's like," Klaus mutters from where he's leaning on the wall.

"No, you don't." Avery rubs his temples with a sigh. "I... I hear things. Voices, mostly. People telling me to do things that I can't do, sometimes insulting me, or reminding me of... things I don't want to remember. They're always in there." He points vaguely at his head, grimacing. "And they don't go away with a couple tylenol."

Five's tone is quickly veering into disbelief. "Maybe you're right, and you're in here by mistake. Just because you're crazy doesn't mean—"

"You're not crazy," Klaus says sharply, cutting off his brother. Five glares at him. "Avery, I hear things too. See things. My whole family thought I was insane as a kid, but turns out I was actually seeing ghosts. None of us have the same power, so I don't think you're hearing ghosts, but if you take our offer, we can help you figure out what they are."

Avery presses his lips together. "You mean that?"

"Yeah."

Thankfully, Five stays silent, allowing Klaus to have the floor for once. Avery sets down his mug, frowning into the steaming liquid, then looks back up, expression softening. He offers the tiniest smile.

"I'm in."

* * *

Number Twenty-Nine ends up finding _them_.

Five deposits them on the sidewalk of a busy city, the streets filled with bustling pedestrians and the screech of taxi horns. Klaus shivers at the cool breeze.

"New York," Klaus mutters. "Wasn't expecting my first trip here to be this _excruciatingly_ long. Can we go home?"

"Not until we find Twenty-Nine." Five glances up at the towering buildings around them, lifting a hand to shield his eyes. He turns in a slow circle, making Klaus move with him. "There wasn't an address listed, so—"

A gust of wind blows past them, so strong that Klaus actually stumbles and nearly falls, while Five just shifts his footing and scowls. Someone laughs softly, the sound drifting over to the pair as if carried by a breeze.

"Names and business," a woman says, dropping into view from the alleyway. She regards them curiously.

"I'm Five, and this is my brother Klaus," Five tells her. "We're from the Umbrella Academy."

"Oh, why didn't you say so?" She dusts herself off, all hostility gone. Smiling, she shakes Klaus' hand, then Five's. "I was a big fan of you guys as a kid. Always wanted to be you. What do you guys want with my city?"

* * *

They don't encounter many who turn them down, though a few choose to stick a pin in it. Klaus is tired of all the traveling by the end of it, when Five reaches the end of the journal and those they could find. Overall, nine decide to join the team. The rest were either unreachable, dead, or otherwise engaged.

Well, as Ben likes to say: Enjoy the Pyrrhic Victory, because you could've had the Epic Pitfall.

(Ben doesn't say that. Ben has never said that. Klaus refers Ben to all of his made-up sayings to divert attention from himself.)

Now, Klaus stands outside the gates of the house, staring up at the old building. It absolutely dwarfs him in size. Feeling something he can't describe, he releases an iron bar and heads off down the street, choosing to leave the house behind for now.

"Where are we going?" Ben asks, tagging along.

"I don't know. I'm accepting suggestions."

"What's this about, Klaus?" Ben circles around in front of Klaus, stopping him. "Is something wrong?"

"Nah, not really. It's just weird, you know, thinking about being a team again. We haven't worked together since we were kids, if you're not counting that Apocalypse vacation we took."

"I am counting that. Look, this is a good thing. We'll be a family and a team. What's not to like?"

"Everything!" Klaus cries, throwing his hands up. "I mean, we've barely had any time to get over things. Being a team won't stop me from having nightmares, it won't stop you from being dead, and it definitely won't change the outcome of the fucking Vietnam War. It's just a... an illusion, and it'll fall apart when the rest of them realize they're no less screwed up than before."

Ben's steady gaze doesn't leave him. Klaus resists the inexplicable urge to hit something.

"It can't change the past," Ben says slowly, "but it's a step in the right direction. We can't erase what happened to us as kids, but we can use our experiences to create our future."

Klaus scoffs and waves his hands dismissively at Ben. "And now you're spouting bullshit philosophies like you're the Dalai Lama or something. Just drown in a bucket of reality, would you? None of this is going to change anything, past or future. And you'll see."

Though Ben frowns, he doesn't refute Klaus' claim.

"I'm right and you'll see."

* * *

After nearly shattering window in surprise at Diego's impromptu entrance, Vanya packs up her violin and catches a taxi to the house, both nervous and eager to see who decided to join the team.

She lifts her fist to knock, but before she can, the door swings open and she tumbles inside, tripping over her feet and nearly pinwheeling to the floor. Someone cries out in surprise and suddenly firm hands are gripping her forearms, helping to steady her balance. When she recovers from the close call, she raises her head to thank whichever sibling caught her.

Instead, she locks eyes with a young woman who has brilliant, startlingly green eyes and tousled black hair tied up in a knot. Vanya's cheeks burn in embarrassment.

"Sorry," she says hurriedly, withdrawing from the woman. She adjusts her violin case, swallowing hard, taking a hesitant step backwards. "I, uh, I didn't know you were right there, I should be more careful where I step."

"No, no," the woman replies. "Don't be. I shouldn't have scared you like that. I'm Emily." She sticks out her hand for Vanya to shake.

Vanya shakes her hand with a small smile. "I'm Vanya."

"Vanya?!" Emily exclaims. "Number Seven? I read your book! Oh, man, have you ever considered a full-time career in writing? Because you've got the talent. Seriously, I've got good ideas but my writing ability is shit and I feel like you could definitely take it and run with it."

"Um..." Vanya raises an eyebrow at Emily's chatter, but gives a slight nod in response. "Maybe. I don't know if I'm the best person to ask, but..."

"Just give it a try, 'kay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure." Vanya shifts her weight at the onset of an awkward silence. "So, uh, are you a metahuman? Is that why you're here?"

"Oh, yeah. I can change the temperature." To demonstrate, Emily wiggles her fingers, and Vanya feels her skin prickle at the sudden chill that fills the room. Another gesture and the temperature is back to normal. "Cool, huh? Literally."

Vanya laughs a bit. "Cool."

"So, what can you do? I know your book said you were ordinary but obviously not if you're here, right?"

"R-Right. I'm still technically in training, so I can't really do it on command, but..."

"That's fine!" Emily chirps. "See you later, Vanya!" And with that, she spins on her heel and walks— _bounces_ —up the stairs, vanishing into the upper balcony.

"She's a lot, huh?" Diego says from the parlor entryway. He looks up to where Emily went. "Kinda annoying at first, but you get used to it."

"I think she's sweet."

"Mm. You would."

"What do you mean by that?" Vanya asks, confused.

Diego smirks, giving her a look that implies he knows something she doesn't. Beckoning for her to follow, he turns and says, "come on. Time to show the newest team members how things work around here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I Struggled through this chapter but I'm happy with it


	3. Foreshadowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newest additions of the Umbrella Academy begin their training.

In preparation for the new arrivals, Luther cleans up the courtyard by discarding any fallen branches, sweeping away Ben's broken statue with a wince and a pang of guilt, and moving some of the benches to make room.

By the time Diego shows everyone outside, it looks nicer than it has in years. As kids, they weren't really allowed out there for leisure.

Luther runs through a mental list of the metahumans. Kala, the illusionist. Macy, some sort of empath. Jeremy, the shapeshifter. Emily, who they found in Seattle and can manipulate the temperature. Avani, found in southern Thailand with the ability to make plants grow. Vira, who can convert energy. Elijah, who can control gravity. Avery, whose powers Luther isn't quite sure of yet. And finally, found in New York is Coro, who can control the wind.

It's an impressive selection. Luther is certainly intrigued, and slightly nervous, though he'd never admit that.

"Luther Hargreeves?" Coro says, her confident tone suddenly laced with excitement. "Number One? Spaceboy? From the comics?"

"Y-Yeah," Luther replies.

Coro eagerly shakes his hand. "Big fan. Good to be here."

"Good to have you."

Once Vanya and Five arrive, Luther takes his natural position at the head, ready to address his new team. "Welcome, everyone. You're here because you want to learn how to fight and strengthen your powers, just like we did. Now, this is going to be different than it was when we were kids, so bear with us while we try this out." He rubs his hands together awkwardly. "Training is going to be individualized and geared towards your specific abilities. However, there's six of us and nine of you, so we'll need to stretch our attention a bit."

"Klaus and Allison aren't here, so there's four of us," Diego says with a frown. "Apparently Klaus can't be bothered to help out."

"We can work around it. How about each of us take two, and one will have to take three."

"I'll take three."

"Got it." Luther goes down the line, counting off. "Avani and Coro with me."

"I can take Emily and Kala," Vanya pipes up. The two women break from the line to join Vanya, both smiling and chatting quietly.

"I've got Elijah, Macy, and Avery," Diego says.

"Vira, Jeremy, with me," Five calls out, turning around and strolling over to the other side of the courtyard.

With everyone split up into their various places, Luther focuses on Avani and Coro. Avani is a young woman in sleek black leather that molds with her curves, accenting her stern complexion. Coro, on the other hand, is slightly brighter, with an actual smile instead of a frown-hinting-at-a-scowl.

"Okay, so how about we start with a simple demonstration of your powers, just so I can get a feel for you," Luther says. "Avani, you first."

Avani rolls her shoulders, flexing her fingers, then lowers her body into a crouch. She closes her eyes and buries her fingers in the soft topsoil. Instantly, green sprouts from the dirt and ripples over the courtyard in a wave of plantlife, flowers bursting into existence and shooting out of the soil. Avani opens her eyes with her first smile.

"Wow," Luther breathes. "That's... amazing."

Humming in reply, Avani rises to her feet in the patch of green she's just summoned.

"Okay. Coro, next."

Coro bounces a little on her toes, then jumps and lands easily on empty air, wobbling before stabilizing, wind swirling in concentrated knots under her feet to form solid platforms. She takes another step up. Now nearly two feet above the ground, she glances up to the sky and _leaps_.

Wind gusts by Luther and catches Coro, lifting her up and sending her spiraling above the courtyard, leaves stirring where she took off. She lets out a cry of joy.

Luther shields his eyes to watch her. She swoops down and swings past him, snagging a tree branch on the way and yanking herself safely back down to earth. Her thick braids are tousled and loose, her clothes ruffled. She smiles in that hesitant, hope of approval way that Luther faintly recognizes from his childhood.

"That was great, Coro," he says appreciatively. "Your formation is really tight. How long have you been working on that? Flying, I mean."

"Since I was little. Mom always thought it was super cool and tried to help me learn as much as she could."

"Well, let's get started, then."

Luther tries his hardest to maintain a leader position, but it soon becomes clear that Coro and Avani don't work well under pressure. When Avani begins to think Luther is frustrated with her, it's her powers that suffer. She barely forces a flower to grow before giving up.

Before he can slip right back into old habits of pushing his team to the absolute limit, Luther stops and forces himself to mute his father's voice still rattling around in his head.

 _How can you ever expect to be extraordinary if you cannot grow a simple flower?_ Reginald sneers.

"It's okay, you've got this. Just concentrate and have fun with it, like you did before," Luther says. He tries for an encouraging smile.

Avani sucks in a deep breath and presses her palms against the base of the flower. It sprouts and widens, shifting slowly into a wine-red rose with thick, smooth petals. She allows herself a half-grin.

"Great job," Luther praises. Everything Reginald would say, Luther goes for the opposite. It's difficult conditioning, but he's getting there.

Coro's flying is really something to gawk at. She's clumsy and a bit awkward on land, but in the air, she moves smoothly, her arms spread wide like a bird. She catches him off guard more than once with her powers.

Although her and Avani don't seem to get along as well as Luther had hoped, they're civil, so he's satisfied with that.

On the other side of the courtyard, Diego works with Elijah, Macy, and Avery. It's an odd combination due to their range of skills. Elijah can control gravity and has some degree of personal defense training, while Macy and Avery are... annoyingly normal. Macy can feel and manipulate others' emotions, which could be useful, but Avery just seems to be what they all thought Klaus was at thirteen: crazy.

Diego notices all of Avery's little quirks, like how his hands are restless and he always seems to be fiddling with something, or how sometimes he'll glance to the side as if hearing something no one else can. At one point, he takes out a bottle of pills and swallows three.

Because of his apparently useless powers, Diego focuses his attention on the other two.

"Change the gravity," Diego tells Elijah.

"Of what?"

"These." Diego tosses a pair of knives into the air and sends them spinning towards Elijah, and moments before they hit him, Elijah flings up his hands, and the knives drop the ground like they're made of lead. Once they're on the ground, Diego loses his control over them.

Elijah huffs a breath of shock, lowering his hands. "You... You could've killed me."

"I was watching. You gotta be faster."

"Right. Right, yeah."

Training is new and exciting with Elijah, but Diego isn't sure how to approach it with Macy. She doesn't have offensive powers, so throwing knives at her won't work.

"Just... do whatever you can," Diego says vaguely.

Macy raises an eyebrow. She turns to Elijah, presses her lips together, and narrows her eyes.

A moment later, Elijah makes a choked noise. He claps a hand over his mouth to stifle the sound, his breathing hitching and a tear slipping down his cheek. Diego has never been comfortable with emotional displays, and as Elijah begins to cry, Diego just sort of stands there awkwardly.

When Macy visibly relaxes, so does Elijah. He rubs his eyes and steadies his breathing.

"You were saying?" Macy says to Diego, eyes fixed on him.

"Hm."

Later, Diego turns to Avery. "So, are you just going to stand there the whole time? You're part of this too."

"My powers aren't even really powers!" Avery cries. "Honestly, I only came because Klaus convinced me, but he's not here. I should just go home."

"No, you've gotta have something in there. Try, at least."

Avery swallows hard and grips the hem of his shirt. "Fine."

Going easy was never Diego's style, so he takes out a knife, hefts it, and throws it at Avery. It buries itself in the wall behind him, inches from his face. Avery flinches hard.

"I only hit what I mean to," Diego tells him.

The next few minutes are spent with Diego narrowly missing Avery and the latter doing near nothing to defend himself. Elijah and Macy watch on with growing boredom.

"Do anything to deflect them, anything at all!" Diego says, hints of annoyance in his tone.

"I can't!" Avery shoots back.

"You can, you aren't trying."

"No, I really c—"

Dust puffs up from the brick where a knife is buried to the hilt. Avery makes a startled noise and covers his face. Another knife flies by. Scrambling away, Avery trips over himself and almost falls to dodge Diego's hits.

"You _can_ ," Diego snaps. "If you would get over your weakness."

" _I can't!"_

A knife slices through Avery's shirt.

It dimly occurs to Diego, somewhere deep down, that he's pushing Avery too hard. As kids, it may have resulted in a lot of emotional issues and developmental problems, but now that they're all adults, Diego feels like this sort of pressure is good. It'll prepare them for real-life scenarios.

No one else has to die because Diego couldn't help them.

"Diego!" Luther yells. "I think we're done for today."

"Not yet," Diego calls back. He directs his attention back to Avery, who is shaking violently and picking himself up from the ground. "Come on, get up. Use whatever you have to fight back."

"I don't have anything," Avery forces out, his voice cracking.

"You gotta have something. We all do."

"I do—don't—"

"We _all_ have something."

Avery falls silent. On his hands and knees, he seems to be gathering himself. The rest of the courtyard is quiet now, watching Diego and Avery.

"I can't," Avery says softly, clenching his fists.

"If only I believed that," Diego replies. "You have to be ready for whatever could happen. Things break, good people die, bad people get away. You can't be weak in a world like this."

"No, you don't understand. I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because—" Avery cuts himself off.

"Because what?" Diego presses, lifting another knife. Something with Eudora's voice tells him he's going too far. "Because you're weak? Ordinary? No one is ordinary around here."

Avery's body shudders as he lowers his forehead to the ground. A ragged gasp escapes him. Diego frowns slightly.

" **We** "—Avery growls, painstakingly pushing himself off the ground—" **are not** "—his fingers curl into the dirt, his words resonating and echoing as if overlapping with a dozen other voices—" _ **weak**_."

Faint, eerie giggling sounds somewhere in the distance. The ground rumbles, and the sky darkens to an ominous crimson. The new recruits let out cries of fear as Luther and Five try to usher them to safety. A breeze stirs up the leaves at Diego's feet. Avery's head is still bowed.

When Avery finally looks up, Diego's heart seizes with terror.

Black, swirling pools have replaced his eyes, a faint purplish glow shining from his irises. His normally shy demeanor has contorted into a twisted, hauntingly ethereal version of himself. His body flickers and almost seems to vibrate, making Diego fight to focus on him, as if several forms are splitting from each other.

Raspy, cold laughter rattles around the courtyard.

" **Not so tough, Hargreeves?** " Avery, or a horrifying mockery of Avery sneers, rising to his feet. He tilts his head, black eyes reflecting no light.

"What the hell?" Elijah gasps behind Diego.

Holding out his hand to shield them, Diego takes a few steps backward, struggling to tear his gaze away from the paralyzing sight.

"Diego!" Five shouts urgently.

" _Diego!"_ someone else shrieks, and then suddenly Klaus is in front of him, shoving him away from Avery. He grabs Diego's collar and yanks him back, pushing Elijah and Macy in the same direction. "Stay back!"

" **Klaus** ," the thing says. He no longer sounds hostile, but more dangerously curious. " **Here?** "

"I'm here," Klaus assures Avery, moving closer. "I'm here, Avery. I'm going to need you to chill a tad, though, and tone down the whole scary demon thing you got there."

Shocking everyone, Avery's image stabilizes, the purple glow dimming. His posture slouches slightly.

"Good. Good. Now we can talk."

Klaus' voice doesn't tremble, and his movements are steady. Where was this courage as a child, or even a few weeks ago? Diego finds himself feeling bitter at how Klaus would change for anyone who wasn't his family.

"I don't know what happened," Klaus starts slowly, "but, um, this isn't you. Not really, anyway."

" **Not Avery** ," the other agrees. " _ **Better**_."

"Just, relax, okay? Go back to normal...?"

Somehow, surprising everyone for a second or maybe third time, the many forms shudder and drag themselves back together, solidifying into Avery. His eyes return to their normal brown color. The crimson glow vanishes from the sky.

Avery staggers towards Klaus and collapses.

Stepping over to him, Klaus helps him stand, confident where everyone else is not. "You good?"

"I'm sorry," Avery whimpers, shaking his head and wringing his hands. "I'm sorry, I can't control it, I didn't mean to scare you—"

Klaus hushes him comfortingly. When Avery falls silent, Klaus says, "what happened?"

"D-Diego was—"

In an instant, Klaus' entire demeanor shifts into one of hostility as he whirls around and pins Diego with a glare. "What the hell, Diego? I thought we agreed to train them _safely?_  This wasn't supposed to be like Dad! You're not supposed to train them like Dad would, or else you're just as bad as him!"

Diego narrows his eyes at the accusation. "How dare you say I'm anything like Dad? And you weren't even here to help out! I thought we were all in this, Klaus. This is just you shirking your responsibilities. At least I'm trying to go with the plan."

"I am not shirking anything!" Klaus shouts. "None of you seem to give a shit about me anyway, so I assumed you wouldn't want me here to screw things up!."

Off to the side, Vanya says softly, "Klaus..."

But Diego is too angry to consider the weight of Klaus' words. "Maybe we don't want you here. You've been nothing but useless, when we were kids and now. You couldn't even get sober long enough to _actually_ train, like we're doing here."

Klaus seems to be trembling with fury. His hands light up with a blue glow, and then Ben stands beside him, arms crossed and sharp stare fixated on Diego.

"Take a breath, Diego," Ben tells him firmly. "Arguing won't fix anything."

"How would you know, Ben? You're dead." Diego turns away and doesn't see the flash of hurt on Ben's face before he flickers out of sight. With that, Diego storms back to the house and slams the door behind him.

As he stalks off, he also doesn't see Kala watching Avery curiously, a gleam of cold interest in her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a comment with your thoughts so far!!


	4. Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback chapter! Also, Vanya and Avery have a talk.

_April 14, 1997. Kansas City, Missouri._

Eight-year-old Avery Wood crouched on the floor of his older sister's bedroom, hands clasped tightly over his ears and his little body shaking all over. A fifteen-year-old girl knelt beside him; the eldest daughter, Katy. She rubbed his shoulder.

Meanwhile, in the living room, their mother and father were screaming at each other, rattling the house with the force of their argument. Avery flinched every time his father raised his voice.

"They'll stop eventually," Katy muttered, swallowing hard. "They always do."

"They've never yelled this loud before," Avery whimpered.

"It's fine. We're fine."

Something shattered in the living room. Their mother yelled something incoherent. Avery gritted his teeth.

"I'm going to go in there," Katy whispered. She rose to her feet, gripping the sleeves of her jacket anxiously. "Stay here, okay? I have to get the cat. I don't want anything to break or for her to get hurt."

"Okay," Avery forced out.

Katy cast him one last look before closing the door behind her. Avery strained his ears to listen. His parents were still shouting, but he didn't hear Katy's voice, so hopefully she wasn't getting in the middle of it. As he pressed his head against the door, the tone outside changed from anger to downright rage.

" _THIS IS YOUR DAMN FAULT TOO!"_

" _MY FAULT? I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING WRONG, AND NEITHER HAS MOM!"_

" _Katy, please—!"_

" _I'M IN CHARGE AROUND HERE, AND ALL OF YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME!"_

" _DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME, ASSHOLE_ —"

A great crashing noise shook the house, along with a shriek of fear. Avery buried his face in his hands and fought back tears.

" _GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!"_

" _DAD DON'T TOUCH HER!"_

" _I CAN DO WHATEVER I FUCKING WANT IN THIS HOUSE_ —"

The words dissolved into incomprehensible screaming, which was somehow worse than the actual shouting. Despair tore at Avery's heart. This would never end. They would never stop.

" _IF YOU HADN'T GONE AND HAD THAT BASTARD_ —"

" _AVERY IS SPECIAL! HE IS SPECIAL AND I WON'T LET YOU TELL HIM OTHERWISE!"_

" _AVERY!"_ his father roared. " _Get your ass in here!"_

Trembling violently, Avery hesitantly stepped into the living room, where his father was towering over his mother, face flushed red with anger. Off to the side, Katy glared at him defiantly, hands balled into fists at her sides.

"Don't bring him into this," his mother snapped.

His father ignored her as he grabbed Avery's arm roughly, too rough, eliciting a cry of pain from the boy. "You ruined everything here. It's all your fault. Everything."

Avery shuddered at his father's cruel tone. "I-I didn't—"

"Shut up!" His father's grip tightened. "I don't want to hear it, freak. I want you out of my house. Get out."

"YOU CAN'T!" his mother shrieked, snatching up Avery's other arm and holding him close to her chest. Avery shook with silent sobs. "YOU WON'T TAKE AWAY MY CHILD!"

"I CAN DO WHATEVER I _DAMN_ WELL PLEASE!"

Then Katy stood beside them, lifting her chin proudly at their father. She wrapped her fingers around their mother's sleeve.

"Get out of the fucking way," their father snarled, raising his hand, and suddenly Katy was doubled over and clutching her cheek with a gasp of pain. Their mother shouted incoherently, voice rising in pitch with her fury.

Avery didn't remember falling to his knees, but he became aware of his fingers curling into the wooden floorboards, head bent, every muscle tense and trembling with adrenaline. Someone whispered faintly in his ears. Gritting his teeth, he closed his eyes and felt something _snap_ inside.

" **You asshole** ," Avery said lowly, his voice resonating and overlapping with otherworldly whispers.

Everything went quiet.

"What the hell did you just say?" his father growled.

" **We are not here for you to kick around**." Avery pushed himself to one knee, then both feet, until he was standing upright, swaying slightly as his image shifted, splitting into rippling copies. Black, empty pools of eyes glinted with a purple gleam. " **You can't do 'whatever you damn well please'**."

Backing away, abject horror on his face, Avery's father lifting a shaking finger and cried, "what are you?"

" **I am legion, for we are many**."

Avery tilted his head, gazing serenely at his father, before the ground beneath their feet began to rumble. A portrait wobbled and toppled to the floor, shattering. Lamps fell and burst into sparks. His father scrambled back, letting out a shout of fear as a cabinet nearly collapsed on top of him.

" **And what are you?** " Avery asked calmly. " _ **Nothing**_."

"Please!" his father groaned, cradling a now-broken arm and pressing himself against the far wall. "I'm sorry, please—"

Avery's voices turned darker, grating, low and harsh as though the very earth was speaking through him.

**I̸͎͛̓̽̓̔͝ ̵̨͓̩̓͛̀̔͜h̵̨̳̼͑̎̂ŏ̶̝̂͆͋͠p̷̨͚͙̟͍̻̔̾͂e̷̡̢͍̞̝͐̈́̍ͅ ̷̻͈̗̦̪̙̂̄͗͠H̴̺͇͍̳̣̰͎̾͐͝e̵̹̮͇͑͆̍̄̽͗l̸̖͍̩̗̼̫̔̌͊̑͐̽l̴̮̣̐͋̐́̚ ̵̨͉͋͐̄͘͘f̸̦͔͇̊̈̓̑͜͝i̴̻̾̉̑̒͗͘n̶̹̼̪͍̬͐̋͛d̸̥͎̍s̷̺̯̿̽̄͘ͅ ̷̟̭͔̖̐y̷̧̗͙͈̦̪͐o̷̧̹̥̼͔̦͕͌̈́̐û̶̫̬̬̟͎̟͊̊ͅ ̴̛̠̳̋͆͜w̵͉̯̰̞̜̾e̷͖͕͖̱̯͊̀͗l̸̙͘͝l̵͙̝̦͘.̷̣̪̽**

His father arched his back and screamed, expression contorted into one of terror and agony, fingers scrabbling for purchase against the ground, ruining his nails and staining the wood red, blood trickling from his eyes and mouth as his flailing limbs grew still. His broken corpse slumped to the floor.

The silence was absolute...

...almost.

Katy moaned softly, clawing her way across the torn-up wooden floor. Avery glanced back. His eyes faded to their normal color, the many blurred images vibrating around him snapping back into place. He took a wavering step towards his sister, but Katy flinched away and continued moving away. A lump rose in Avery's throat as he saw the smear of blood trailing into the hallway.

Keeping a careful distance away, he followed his sister, choking on a cry of grief when he witnessed the scene within.

His mother was curled into herself, fingers wrapped around a bloody wound in her chest. A jagged metal bar, broken off from one of the lamps. She coughed and gurgled, spitting up blood.

"Mom," Katy croaked. A hoarse sob escaped her as their mother stopped moving, hands relaxing and head lolling back on her shoulders. "Mom, no, Mom..."

"Mom," Avery echoed, heavy weights settling at the bottom of his ribs. He clapped a hand over his mouth, stifling his crying.

Katy's low keening sharpened to a piercing wail, rocking back on her heels and pleading desperately for her mother to return. Avery staggered back and tripped over a fallen shelf.

"This is _your_ fault!" Katy shrieked, her eyes red and puffy and tears streaming down her cheeks. " _THIS IS YOUR FAULT!"_

"I-I—"

But Katy had moved on. "Mom," she sobbed, cradling their mother's body close, face twisted with grief.

"I'm sorry," Avery whispered.

Sirens screeched in the distance. The last remaining light flickered awkwardly and cast dim light over his father's ruined corpse. Katy cried. Their mother didn't wake up.

"I'm so sorry."

* * *

_Present day..._

The other recruits had long since retreated to their rooms after the training fiasco. Vanya stands in one of the many hallways, hovering beside a certain door and weighing her options. Should she leave Avery alone? Or is giving him space a bad idea?

Finally, she makes up her mind and knocks on the door.

A long pause almost convinces her he's not going to answer, but then the door swings open. Avery relaxes a bit when he sees it's just her.

"Can I come in?" she asks.

"Yeah."

She notices how bare the room is, like he isn't giving himself a chance to settle down. A single suitcase sits unopened on the floor. Avery closes the door and sighs slightly, hands in his pockets.

"Are you okay?" Vanya tries hesitantly, sensing the tension in the air. Avery frowns a bit.

"Yeah," he says. After a moment, he swallows hard and smiles mirthlessly. "No. No, I'm not, because I nearly hurt Diego out there."

"Diego is fine. He can handle himself."

"That's not the worst part, though." Avery pinches the bridge of his nose. "I scared you. All of you. I lost control and went right back to square one, like I was eight again."

"Believe me," Vanya says, giving him a lopsided smile. "It'll take a lot more than that to scare us. I mean, you think that was scary? You should've seen me at the Icarus theater."

"Icarus?"

Vanya waves him off. "Another story, another time. All I'm saying is, you'll have to try much harder if you want to really scare us. You might've unsettled Diego, though, he doesn't take it well when people stand up to him. You should know that he was definitely out of line yesterday, and Luther will deal with him later."

"I just... I want to stay here and learn to control it better, but I feel like I'm never going to learn. What's inside me, it's... it's too volatile."

"You wanna talk volatile?" Vanya laughs. "I didn't even know I had powers until a month ago. I can barely control my own powers, much less teach others."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You'll do fine here, I promise. We're all figuring this out, so like Luther said, bear with us."

"Right. Yeah, you're right." Avery bites his lip, taps his foot once, and attempts to look less awkward. Vanya knows the expression from looking in the mirror, so she understands when it's time to take her leave.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" she says, her voice lifting at the end and turning it into a question.

"Maybe. See you sometime."

"Yeah. Sometime."

Before she goes, she adds, "oh, and, Kala wanted to talk to you. Should I tell her...?"

Avery nods. "Yeah, that's fine."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

Avery lingers inside the room until Kala walks in, all black hoodies and inviting smiles. Her whole demeanor puts Avery at ease. She closes the door quietly, minding the old locks.

"Hey," she says. "I saw what you did out there. Pretty cool. Sorry I didn't come until today, I was worn out after practice yesterday. It's really a workout, huh?"

"Yeah. So, what's up?"

"I just wanted to say that your powers are cool." Kala flicks her hands and a white headband appears around her head. She adjusts the illusion as she talks. "It was so otherworldly. Like, awesome. I was thinking, maybe once you get better control, you can let me try and copy you. Like, creating an illusion that looks as real as your powers."

"I don't know if I'd want to see anything in my mind out in the real world," Avery admits with a huff. "I think I'd lose it permanently."

Avery doesn't see it, but Kala's eyes snap to him. "Like, 'go crazy' lose it?"

"Yeah. Just fly off my rocker."

"Hm. Let's hope that doesn't happen, right?"

"Ha. Yeah." Avery runs a hand through his hair, glancing away from Kala, uncomfortable with too much eye contact. "So, I'll see you another time?"

"Yeah, yeah, another time. Around the house too." Kala chuckles, just as awkward as him. Somehow, it's comforting. "See you."

"See you."

Kala casts him one last warm, friendly look before slipping out of the room.


	5. Guess Who's Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training starts up again, sans Diego and plus Allison. Vanya and Klaus take a break.

Upon seeing three missed calls from Luther, a voicemail from Vanya, and even a couple texts from Klaus, Allison experiences a myriad of emotions, ranging from pure panic to exasperation and back to anxiety. She decides to call Luther.

He explains the whole situation with Diego and the new recruit, Avery. Allison shakes her head, although knowing Luther can't see her, and mutters something along the lines of 'I'll have a chat with Diego'.

Both reluctant to leave her niece and eager to be back with her siblings, Allison packs up her things and takes a flight back to the city.

The whole way, she can barely focus on the gorgeous scenery blurring by. Getting herself thrown back into the mix of the Umbrella Academy life isn't exactly what she wants, but she knows it's best for everyone if she's there to help mediate. And besides, L.A. is a bit too fast-paced for her.

When she does reach the city, some of the apprehension melts away. This place is her childhood, her home, however cold it may have been with Reginald Hargreeves as a father.

She tips taxi driver a generous amount and walks up to the front gate. Cast-iron bars, thick and rusted and rough beneath her fingers. She swings the gate open and shoulders her sleek blue bag, dusting any dirt off of her white scarf. Feeling irrational for wanting to look presentable for the new recruits, she stops adjusting her clothes and just opens the door.

Klaus whirls past her upon entry, casting her a brief 'hullo darling' before dipping outside and slamming the doors. She blinks in surprise, but then laughs.

"Klaus," she murmurs, smiling.

The next person she runs into is, surprisingly, not a sibling. Instead, it's a young man wearing a partially-unbuttoned green polo, a pineapple keychain dangling from his wrist, and a warm smile. He has a dark tan and a sturdy frame, leading Allison to believe he's involved in some sort of sport.

"Hey," he greets her.

"Hi. Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Jeremy. Nice to meet you. Allison, right?"

"Right." Allison shakes the offered hand with a smile of her own. "Am I famous or something?"

"Something like that," Jeremy agrees. "I've only seen like one of your movies, but Luther also mentioned you'd be coming."

"Ah. So, you're a new recruit?"

"Mm-hm." Jeremy grins, and suddenly a copy of Vanya is standing in his spot, still dressed in his original clothes but is, for all other intents and purposes, now Vanya Hargreeves. "Cool, huh? It's never perfect, but I can get pretty darn close."

"Wow," Allison marvels. "Shapeshifter. Yeah, that is cool."

Jeremy shifts back into himself and straightens his shirt. "Are you going to stick around and help? I think we need you after the incident a few days ago."

"I heard about that. I actually am staying for that exact reason."

"Neat-o. See you later!" Jeremy waves at her as he ducks into the parlor. Coming from the other direction, Luther dodges Jeremy, exchanges a quick greeting with him, then hurries over to Allison.

"Hey. I didn't expect you to be back so quick."

"I wanted to. I missed you guys, actually." She glances around, catching sight of a young woman on the upper balcony, talking to Vanya. "These people signed up fast, huh?"

"Yeah. The house is full again."

"Feels weird."

"Mm."

A pause. It's a bit awkward, a bit tense, a bit full of everything neither can bring themselves to speak aloud. Finally, Allison smooths down her shirt and offers a slight smile.

"Shall we?"

"R-Right," Luther replies.

He leads her out to the courtyard, where she assumes the new additions are gathered. There are a lot more than she had expected. When Vanya sees her, she rushes over to greet Allison, a smile gracing her gentle features. She hesitates before hugging Allison.

"I didn't know you'd be back so soon," Vanya says, drawing back. Allison laughs. "It's good to see you."

"You too, sis."

"Ah, you decided to join the team," Five remarks with one eyebrow raised. A glint in his eye tells her that he isn't serious.

"You're falling apart without me, or so I heard. Where's Diego?"

"Gone," Klaus interjects. He's standing next to someone Allison hasn't seen before; a young man with tousled red hair and a shy demeanor. He has the same appearance as Vanya used to, which sparks a sort of protective instinct in Allison. "And good riddance, too."

"Klaus," Luther scolds half-heartedly. He gives Allison a helpless look.

"What?" Rolling his eyes, Klaus sighs and shrugs. "Whatever. Glad you're here, Alli."

"'Alli'? Since when am I 'Alli'?" Allison asks.

"Since now. Oh, I almost forgot." Klaus taps his companion's shoulder. "Avery, Allison. Allison, Avery."

"Hi," Avery says timidly.

Allison waves.

"Introductions aside," Five speaks up, cutting off the pleasantries, "we should really get started. After the other day, I think we should stick to limited instruction and more performance-type training." Addressing the recruits now, he continues, "we'll give tips when needed, but the day is yours."

Allison marvels at how easily he falls into the leadership position. Luther might be the default that they all slip back to, but Five has a sort of arrogant power about him that encourages compliance. If not for their rebellious tendencies, Five would've taken over as team leader long ago.

Certainly, his time with the Commission had molded him into a confident, intelligent soldier with natural defiance swirled up in the mix. An interesting combination that takes no shit.

It's admirable.

All that aside, nothing could've prepared Allison for these new recruits.

Their powers are strange and awesome, bordering dangerous as long as they keep it contained. A few strike Allison in particular. Kala, for one, with her illusions that both worries and amazes Allison. Avani, who can make greenery sprout from hard-packed ground. Elijah lifts and floats things with minimal effort, lessening or increasing the gravity.

This whole thing, all of these new abilities and incredible powers, it's nearly overwhelming. Allison has only a slight contribution, not quite adjusted to the dynamics, but she's content to g̶a̶w̶k̶ watch the rest of them train.

"Hey, Allison, right?" one of them says, dropping down beside Allison. She quickly matches a name to a face; Coro, the Native American girl who can control the wind. "Nice to meet you. Are you going to train with us?"

"Oh, I don't know," Allison says. "Maybe in the future."

"Cool. Watch this." Coro grins and takes a running leap, her foot sinking into the air for a moment before it solidifies beneath her and suddenly she's jumping on platforms of empty space, laughing and practically dancing higher in the sky. Allison shields her eyes from the sun, unable to resist a soft gasp of surprise.

"Crazy, huh?"

Allison glances over to find Klaus sidling up beside her, dressed in a neon tropical shirt that she faintly remembers and ripped black jeans.

"Going without the full-length boa today?" she teases. Klaus pretends to toss a boa over his shoulders, blowing a kiss to the invisible crowd. "Sans the eyeliner, too? Who are you and what have you done to Klaus?"

"Stored him in a basement somewhere," Klaus says flippantly. "If there's an issue, take it up with his—I mean my manager."

Laughing, Allison covers her mouth with her hand. Klaus cracks a smile. When they both can handle themselves again, she turns her gaze back to Coro as she talks. "How are you doing? I know it hasn't been very long, but, I mean, after our impromptu Apocalypse vacation, I think we should all be taking some time off."

"Not Five. He's just diving headfirst into a new thing like we didn't almost all die in a theater. Of _all_ places." Klaus scoffs under his breath. "I mean, not a single moment passes for Five without him obsessing over something. What's new, though?"

"Yeah," Allison sighs. "I wish he would slow down for the rest of us."

"It's not the first time I've been left in the dust."

Allison doesn't notice when she breezes past the statement, and she doesn't notice when Klaus' carefree expression wavers. "So, any idea where Diego's gone?"

"No clue. Try that boxing ring, I heard he mops floors."

* * *

The sun is well into its descent down the sky, and Vanya is not tired.

She lingers in the courtyard long after everyone else has gone, watching the sunlight glint off of Ben's statue that Luther swept into the corner. Despite knowing that Ben isn't really gone, since Klaus can summon him, she can't help but feel like her grieving process has been completely reversed, as if they aren't allowed to mourn him anymore.

It's a strange feeling. She dismisses it.

"Sis!" Klaus calls out behind her.

Vanya shifts to the side so she can look up at him, smiling. "Hey."

He bumps her shoulder and sits down beside her. Leaning back dangerously far on the bench, he exhales loudly. "So. What are you up to?"

"I don't know. I think I'll go back to my apartment and fit some practicing in."

"Mm."

Eyeing him in her peripheral, Vanya notices that although he seems perfectly relaxed, his smile is slowly fading into a frown and his fingers curl into his shirt tightly. Maybe he's stressed. Vanya has never been good at interpreting people, especially since her disastrous failure with Leonard, so she doesn't want to make any assumptions.

At the same time...

Klaus is her brother. If he's hurting, she needs to be there for him, even if it's misplaced.

"Hey, um," she starts nervously, chewing on her lip, "do you want to go get some coffee? Or maybe a donut?"

Klaus gives her a warm look. "Lucky for us, I know a place that serves both."

Not too long later, they're both sitting by the counter at Griddy's. The waitress is new; a younger woman named Erynn who'd replaced Agnes. She takes their orders.

"I miss this place," Vanya says, running a finger down the old countertop. Klaus hums in agreement.

"Can't remember the last time we were all here together. Before Five left, that's for sure, so more than seventeen years." Klaus sighs. "And here we are now, hopping right back into this whole team thing without even stopping to think about it."

"Well, going fast isn't necessarily a bad thing. Maybe we're all just eager to be together again."

Klaus scoffs. "As if. Five is probably doing this because he has nothing else to do, same with Luther. Diego can't handle it, as you could've guessed. Allison is only here to corral the rest of us. It's a disaster."

Not quite knowing what to say to that, Vanya turns her attention back to the waitress as she arrives with their orders.

They enjoy the donuts and coffee in silence for a while. The overly-sugary frosting is just as delicious as she remembers. Vanya mulls over Klaus' words but doesn't formulate a response, restraining herself from possibly saying the wrong thing. Klaus doesn't seem to mind the amicable quiet.

A few more people trickle in and out. Eventually, they're the last two left.

Klaus sets down his empty drink. "Well, it's late. I'm going to head back to the house, you?"

"Me too, I think."

"Best for me to escort you, then, right?" Klaus quirks one eyebrow. "Can't have a nice young lady walking alone at night."

Rolling her eyes, Vanya allows Klaus to loop their arms together and lead her out of Griddy's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I get your guys' honest opinion? What do you think of this so far? I feel like maybe people aren't as interested in this sequel and I'm kinda sad 'cause I have awesome stuff planned but we need to trudge through the less intriguing parts first. Anyway. Just comment what you think.


	6. Short But S̶w̶e̶e̶t̶ Important

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the new recruits grow stronger, Allison begins to have doubts. Diego stumbles upon something. Some of Kala's true intentions are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but important plot info!!

A week passes. The new recruits settle in, growing more comfortable living at the house and with fourteen roommates. Diego and Avery pointedly steer clear of each other. Allison notices Vanya and Emily becoming closer. Klaus pops in whenever he feels like it.

Things are normal.

Except...

The recruits' powers are developing at a rapid, shocking rate. So rapid, that Allison begins to worry for their future.

Once she manages to track down Diego, he tells her about the new, mysterious threat known only by the name 'Ayaba'. Not only does that concern her, it makes her even more worried about the recruits and whether or not the Umbrella Academy can keep them safe. If Ayaba really wants to destroy them, she might start targeting their city or even their home.

It makes Allison feel jittery and trembly inside. It's not a pleasant feeling and she hates it.

One night, when everything has settled down and everyone is going to sleep, she goes up to the attic and the window, and she curls up inside with a smoking cigarette. The moon is covered tonight, masking the faint moonlight with wispy grey clouds. Even the city seems to be winding down. Far off in the distance, the horizon's glow has completely faded into darkness.

Exhaling smoke, she taps the cigarette on the windowsill, watching the ashes drift down to the fire escape below.

"Miss Allison?"

Allison jerks her head up to find Pogo in the doorway, leaning on his cane. She quickly extinguishes the cigarette. Déjà vu strikes her as she realizes they've done this all before.

"Hi, Pogo," she says, stumbling a bit over her words. She's so, so happy to see him alive and well, that she rushes over to him and warmly accepts his offered hug. She sucks in a shaky breath. "How are you?"

"I should be asking you," Pogo says. He draws back, giving her a knowing look. "Does the window still suit you well?"

"Oh, oh yeah. It's just the same." She feels so silly, talking about a window as if that's the most important thing here, but she recognizes the glint of kindness in Pogo's eyes and knows he's allowing her a chance to gather herself.

A car beeps outside. Pogo looks up at her expectantly.

"Don't you think we've..." She sighs. "Bitten off more than what we bargained for? Sorry, wait, I'm mixing metaphors now."

"I understand," Pogo says. "It's a big change than what you were all used to. I certainly enjoy knowing that the house is full once again."

"That's not the problem. I mean, I'm not worried about the house, I'm worried about the people inside it. There's someone out there who wants us dead, and if Ayaba is strong enough to scare that assassin, I think we should be a little more concerned about it."

"Master Diego does seem to regard the situation in a very flippant manner," Pogo agrees. "What do you suppose we do about it, then?"

"I don't know! That's the problem!" Allison cries. She pinches the bridge of her nose, desperately attempting to quell the anxiety rattling around inside her. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be shouting. I just don't want to lose all of this again."

"Speak to your siblings," Pogo gently encourages her. "They will understand. They can help. You are a team and a family, Miss Allison, never forget." And with that, he bids her a quiet goodnight and eases the door shut behind him.

Allison stares at the closed door for several moments before lighting another cigarette.

* * *

Although Diego had most of his police radios confiscated by Eudora Patch, he still manages to snag some from the surplus. Now, it sits on the edge of the ring where he's sweeping the floors. It's mindless, repetitive work, so he lets his thoughts go blank as he focuses on the broom in his hands.

Suddenly, the radio crackles and begins spewing police codes and addresses that he recognizes.

" _Gunshots reported on the 400 block of Milton Avenue, Griddy's Doughnuts_."

Hit with horrible déjà vu, Diego drops his broom, grabs the radio, and hurries out the door.

 _No way no way no way,_ his brain chants as he races through the streets, veering sharply right towards the crime scene. There's no possible way that Five is involved again, at the same place as before. It doesn't make sense.

But then again, does anything?

There's only one police car parked in front when he arrives, so he's able to slip in the back unseen. While the officer is busy taping off the area, he unlocks the doors and steps inside.

Everything is startlingly similar to the first time he'd been here. Flickering, broken lights. Bullet holes peppering the walls. And, of course, the dead bodies strewn all over the floor in a seemingly random pattern. Feeling slightly nauseous, Diego checks the body closest to him. Neck broken, unlike the others. Another was stabbed. The rest were shot.

"Impossible," he whispers. As he rises to his feet, he notices one of the bodies has a note taped to the back. He picks it up and narrows his eyes to read it in the wavering light.

_First casualties._

"First casualties?" he says aloud, frowning. "What the hell does that mean?"

Then several sirens wail outside, and he makes sure to lock the door behind him on his way out.

* * *

Back at the house, in the room directly below Allison, Kala paces back and forth, eyes narrowed on the hardwood floor at her feet. She sends up random illusions around the room; changing the wall color from green to white, widening the window size, moving the books from the desk to the wardrobe.

On her bed, Macy sits with her knees drawn up to her chest, watching the different illusions take place before scattering. She feels twinges of agitation from Kala, accompanied with sharp bursts of fear. Macy rubs her chest and frowns.

"This won't do us any good," Macy tells her. "Look, I know it's stressful, but you gotta calm down."

"I _am_ calm."

"You're making yourself bleed."

Kala glances down at her palms to find her nails digging deep grooves into her skin. She flexes her fingers, scowling. "It's not my fault they're so disgustingly open. The whole family has no idea how to mask their intentions, or even make an attempt to hide their goal. If they really wanted to make change, they'd stop trying to save humans and start saving their own kind."

"You have to remember, they don't see it that way," Macy reminds her. She extends her legs, rolling her ankles, then gets to her feet and forces Kala to stop pacing. "Hey. Hey, look at me." Kala raises her eyes to meet Macy's. "You can do it. I know you can. No one suspects us, I would've felt it. You got this in the bag, okay? Don't worry."

Sighing softly, Kala leans forward and rests her forehead on Macy's shoulder, relishing the comfort. "Thank you. Still, what happens if I do fail? She'll have my head."

"Then don't." Macy kisses her temple, one hand rubbing circles on Kala's arm. "Don't fail. I trust you to get us through this."

Kala draws back only slightly, just enough to meet her girlfriend's gaze. "I don't even trust myself. I mean, with these powers, I worry..."

"She'll usher us into a new dawn," Macy whispers, tightening her grip on Kala's arms. "Here comes the storm."

Although her voice is laced with hesitance, Kala murmurs back, "here comes the storm."


	7. Investigation and Boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TUA attempts to solve the peculiar crime scene. Vanya and Emily grow closer and make a decision.

"Those were the only details Diego said?" Allison asks incredulously. "'Shooting, bodies, Griddy's'?"

"That's right," Five replies. He yanks on a loose-fitting hoodie he'd stolen—ahem—borrowed from Klaus, picks up one of his personal journals, and vanishes with a _pop!_

He lands just outside of the active crime scene, startling Diego into whipping out his knives.

"Five," Diego groans, sheathing his weapons. "Don't do that."

"Tell me what happened."

They both lift their eyes to the scene, swarming with police officers and reporters. The morning buzz hints at a bright day to follow, with wispy white clouds drifting overhead and a burning sun on the rise. The sky is a crisp, baby blue. However, the city has not quite awoken, so the general bustle of metropolis life is still lying dormant.

"I heard a report on the radio about a shooting at Griddy's," Diego says, giving Five a pointed look. "The same sort of report I got when you trashed the place."

"I wasn't responsible for this," Five says.

"I figured. Anyway, here's the kicker: it looks exactly the same."

"As what?"

"As your crime scene." Diego stares at Five, borderline accusing. " _Exactly_. Down to every last detail. Everyone but two were shot, one had his neck snapped, and two were stabbed; in the eye and the throat. All of them have criminal records, just like before. You better explain yourself, and quick, Five."

"I..." Five frowns. "I didn't do this, Hazel and Cha-Cha are far away from the city, and we're technically under the Commission's protection. I don't know who could've done this."

"Whoever it was would've had to know a lot about us to mimic the scene exactly."

"Yeah." Five jots down a few notes in his journal, then says, "did you find anything helpful? Any fingerprints? No one cleans up better than me, so they must've left something."

"I tried. Incidentally, all of the victims' fingerprints were burned off. Also, none of them died from gunshots or other obvious injuries."

"What? How did they die, then?"

"Electrocuted," Diego informs him. "Each and every one of them. Electrocuted somewhere else, then set up to look like they shot each other." He puts his hands up in mock-surrender. "I know, I thought it was weird too. But the police chalked it up to a loose powerline that one of them tripped on or some other bullshit."

"We know better."

"Yeah. We do. Any ideas, Five?"

Five flips his journal shut, eyes the crime scene one last time, and says, "I'll get back to you."

* * *

Vanya raises her violin to her shoulder and relaxes her fingers, holding the bow gently, then begins to play. She's been doing this for weeks now as a substitute for her medication. As much as she hates to admit it, it's hard to deal with her emotions without it, so she'd desperately searched for an alternative to avoid thinking about taking the medicine again.

Eventually, she'd started playing her violin religiously, whenever she feels overwhelmed or stressed. It's remarkably helpful.

Now that she's playing with her orchestra again, she has a lot more music to read and memorize. She pauses for only a moment to adjust her stand.

_Knock knock._

"Yes?"

"Vanya?" Emily leans inside the door, a hopeful smile on her face. "What are you doing?"

"Just fitting in a bit of practice. You can come in."

Emily eagerly closes the door and finds a spot on Vanya's bed. She draws her knees up to her chest, settling in to watch. Vanya huffs a laugh as she raises her bow. The music comes a bit more difficult to her, for whatever reason, but Vanya fumbles more than she means to, and warmth flushes her cheeks when she misses a note or squeaks. She can feel Emily's eyes on her.

Towards the end of it, Vanya sets down her violin with a heavy sigh. "Sorry, that wasn't my best practice. I don't know what's going on."

"I thought you were great! Can I listen to you at your actual orchestra sometime?"

Surprised, Vanya says, "yeah, of course." A shiver crawls up her spine at the compliment, and she rubs her arms self-consciously. Emily gets to her feet and touches Vanya's shoulder on her way out.

As soon as Emily is gone, Vanya drops down onto her bed and groans, "what is wrong with me?"

* * *

Emily's powers aren't the most exciting, but they're certainly interesting.

Casting a sudden chill over the courtyard, raising the temperature to a comfortable warmth inside the house, subtly adjusting the heat to make Diego take off his ridiculous costume, much to Vanya's amusement. Vanya feels a strange wave of warmth and a shiver up her spine at the same time whenever her and Emily accidentally touch.

It's confusing and a little bit nerve-wracking, but Emily doesn't bring it up, so Vanya stays quiet.

"Watch this," Emily says once, picking up a glass of water. She holds the glass with both hands and narrows her eyes. A moment later, a sheen of ice crackles over the surface, instantly cooling the liquid into little crystals. She grins as she turns the glass upside down, and nothing falls out.

"Woah," Vanya says. "Can you do it the other way?"

Emily straightens the glass. Slowly, the ice melts back into water, then begins to bubble as she heats it up. Eventually, the water is boiling and popping. She sets it down after cooling it back to a reasonable temperature, and looks up at Vanya as if for validation.

"That's really cool," Vanya tells her sincerely. "You can use that for so many things."

"One of these days, I'm going to freeze a lake, and we can go ice skating."

"Oh, uh, I don't know how-"

"Don't worry!" Emily says brightly. "I'll teach you!"

They share a smile.

* * *

One night, Vanya and Emily are in the former's room. Vanya closes her violin case and folds up her stand, setting her music aside for the next day. Emily leans against the wall, quietly watching her. The sun has already set, and night is upon the city, so the rest of the Hargreeves house is winding down.

"You know what we should do?" Emily says suddenly. Vanya catches her eye. "You could show me around the places I haven't been yet. The house is big, and I've really only been in the inside. What about the roof, or the basement?"

Since the basement is firmly out of the question, Vanya agrees on the roof. Without thinking about it, the two lace their hands together as Vanya leads them upstairs, all the way up to the roof of the house. It's mostly barren up there, but there's a few abandoned greenhouses that are overflowing with plantlife, and a niche that can conveniently fit two people.

The two curl up inside the niche. Vanya tucks herself into the corner, anxious, but Emily has no qualms about sitting closely to her and pressing their shoulders together. Vanya smiles gently as Emily lifts her eyes to the sky, admiring the view.

"Best view in the whole city," Vanya tells her.

Emily nods, agreeing. "It's so pretty up here. Did you come here as a kid?"

"Sometimes. Usually when I was upset, or if I had Five to get us out if Dad found us. I stopped coming up here after he caught Allison and Luther once; I think I was too scared."

"You know, the more I hear about your dad, the more I want to punch him. He sounds horrible."

Vanya sighs. "He was. I used to think I hated him, but mostly I hated myself. For not meeting his standards. Recently, I've realized that I couldn't be angry at my siblings; we were just kids, after all. I really should've been hating _him_ all these years." She lets her head rest against the back of the niche.

The sky is an inky, consuming black, so dark it seems to be swallowing up the tiny pinpricks of stars. The moon shines pale and ghostly. It appears terribly lonely, up there all alone. Vanya wonders how it must've been for Luther.

"Beautiful," Emily murmurs.

Vanya glances down to find Emily not looking at the sky, but at her. Emily's eyes glitter in the moonlight. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

They share a long look, the view forgotten. Emily tilts her head up slightly, drawing them closer together. Vanya carefully moves so that there's hardly any space left between them. A ripple of warmth spreads from Emily's skin, banishing the bite of the night wind. Vanya's heartbeat is the only thing she can hear.

Silence. A bird chirps somewhere in the distance.

Emily leans in, and Vanya almost follows suit, when—

Vanya gently sets a hand on Emily's shoulder, stopping both of them from proceeding. Emily's eyebrows furrow in confusion, her eyelashes fluttering as she glances up at Vanya curiously.

"What is it?" Emily asks.

"I... I'm not ready," Vanya admits softly, lowering her eyes. "I think we were going too fast. My last relationship didn't go well, and I guess... I'm just scared of having a repeat."

"Oh." Emily straightens. Her expression is filled with understanding. "Oh, that's okay. We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. I respect your boundaries."

"Thank you. It means so much."

"Anyway, I do think we were going a little fast. We'll go slow from here on out, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Thank you, again."

"It's fine, Vanya," Emily says, running a hand through her hair. She smiles kindly. "Let's get to bed."

At the same time, across town, Five steps through a blue rift and lands outside of Griddy's, which has been taped off for a few days. He frowns at the establishment. None of the clues make sense, and all of his potential suspects don't fit the criteria. It's immensely frustrating, but it gives him something to focus on. He'd been a bit scattered lately.

Right before he sets off for the house, his phone rings. Luther and Allison had arranged for everyone to get them, so they could all contact each other, but he mostly finds it annoying. Still, he answers it when he sees Diego is the caller.

"Any leads?" Five asks.

" _No, but there is something else. Meet me at Gimbel Brothers, on_ —"

"6045 Vanderbilt," Five finishes, a sick feeling twisting deep inside. "I'll be there."

When he arrives at Gimbel Brothers, Diego is waiting inside. The lights are off, with only a few accent lights remaining, the whole scene worryingly familiar.

Diego holds up a bullet casing for Five to see. "Nine millimeters, haven't been manufactured since 1963. No security footage." His stare turns accusing. "Five, for your sake and mine, tell me what the hell is going on before I lose my shit."

"I..." Five takes the bullet casing. "I don't know, Diego. We have no real leads or motive."

"Maybe we do." Diego fishes a crumpled note out of his pocket. "I found this when I got here."

Five leans over to look.

_Second casualties: property damage_

"And this," Diego adds, giving Five another paper. "First casualties. I found it at Griddy's."

"You had this the whole time? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think it was important."

Growling under his breath, Five shreds the paper in half and snaps, "anything else you'd like to share with the group before we proceed? Any idea where the culprit is going to strike next?"

"Well, last time, there was a murder in the same night of the shooting here. Ishmael's Towing."

If Five was getting a sense of foreboding before, it's become downright dread. "I remember. He gave me the address for Gimbel Brothers. I forgot about him after he left, but Hazel and Cha-Cha must have gotten to him."

"We should go and make sure everything's okay over there."

"Why is this happening?" Five mutters, mostly to himself, rubbing a hand down his face. "Okay. Whoever is doing this must know about us and the Commission to be able to accurately mimic these crime scenes. They must be sending a message, but what?"

"Hey, you, um... Do you remember when I said I talked to Cha-Cha? About that person named Ayaba or something?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe she's behind this. I mean, Cha-Cha seemed scared of her, and she obviously has a grudge against us."

Five grits his teeth. "That could be plausible, except there's no real motive behind this. Why wouldn't she just attack us directly?"

"I don't know. That's what we're trying to figure out, right?"

"... this is a big fucking mess."

"Yeah.

"I'll check out Ishmael's Towing."

"'Kay."

Later that night, Five will arrive at Ishmael's Towing to find someone hanging from the ceiling, bloodied and electrocuted, a note pinned to their chest that will say,  _third casualties: innocent life_.

**Author's Note:**

> Update schedule is Wednesdays & Saturdays! Thank you all for reading, and I'm really hoping you'll enjoy this one :)


End file.
